An Owl's Eye View
by HenriaSownbinder
Summary: Denali's loyalty went above the call of an owl. He is Henria Sownbinder's familiar and they are a formidable team when they are together, fighting for the Order of the Phoenix. Join Denali as he recounts his adventures with Henria at Hogwarts, through his eyes.
1. My Witch

_**A/N: So, I must hate myself. I am going to be doing Henria's story through Denali's eyes. It isn't going to be as detailed as Henria. The first couple of chapters are going to span the months before Christmas. Maybe the first four. It is going to be Denali's musings and Denali's thought process. I found him entertaining in Outsider in the Inside.**_

 _ **This one is for**_ **dracodarlingxx _! Because she supports my bad habits. Like drama..._**

 ** _Want some drama, go read her story_ Legends Never Die _! It is a next gen fic with a lot of swearing and dramatics. Plus, Albus is a grumpy, macho man's man. He has said so before. So, go read that also! She is brilliant!_**

 ** _Happy reading!_**

 ** _Henny, that lucky Penny!_**

* * *

 **My Witch**

The dingy room was not too bad. My witch and I were relatively comfortable. And Diagon Alley was not too terrible. My witch only went out there when we needed some supplies. She had been grumbling about how many of those vile drinks she had left from her stock. The amount of caffeine flowing in her system was giving me a headache, but she was stressed out about having left Alaska. I understood her need to give me the headache.

I tried to comfort her as best as I could. She was constantly stroking my wings and feathers. Her soft kisses brought comfort to the both of us. I wished that I could bring her father here. He would be able to comfort her even better than I could. I felt useless as I listened to her silently cry herself to sleep at night. I felt angry every time she would look longingly to the west, quietly wishing for some snow or mountain range. I would hoot softly when I would watch her stare at the floor, longing it to be carpeted with the pale lavender of her room. She was already breaking and we hadn't even finished our journey.

I tire of the strange looks we accumulate as we walked to get our supplies. Had no one seen an owl perched on a shoulder before? The people in Sitka never looked at my witch like that before. I guess it could be that I was as dark as night. Or that I was the size of a babe a year old. It could have been because my witch never spoke or spared them more than a glance. She was forever searching. She was forever guarding. But in all fairness, I was too. I studied the auras of those I could. Most were untainted and afraid. Every now and then I would see one with dark spots. They had been practicing dark magic. I could not only see the dark, but I could smell it. It was sulfuric and rotted. Those people I would follow with my gaze and make sure they didn't touch my girl.

Finally, after two weeks of mostly silence, we were on the train to our destination. The platform was bustling with nervous children and parents. There were excited young witches and wizards, calling out to their friends and giving their parents last hugs and kisses. I felt my witch's heart hurt in the feeling of being lonely. She wished for her friends so hard, that I could feel my heart begin to break. She wanted to see her father one last time before the daunting task that had been laid before her was to begin. It really was a lot to ask of her from Minerva. But the older witch had been so tense and lost when she arrived two months before, I thought she might fall over from a heart attack. My witch would never leave someone high and dry.

"What are you so understanding about?" hazel eyes bore into my black irises. I just gave her a comforting hoot to let her know I was here and not going anywhere without her.

We embarked on the train. It didn't take her long to find an empty compartment. I pushed off Hernria's shoulder onto the bench. I knew to feel comfortable, she would need to unload her luggage. She pulled out what look like toy boxes. A wave of her wand and they enlarged to her trunks. Even with her tiny stature, she hefted them up to the luggage rack. My witch always makes me feel proud. She is a strong girl with hardly any fear. She may get nervous or overly excited, but she has bearing and discipline. I am very proud of her.

Henria sat down and I could feel the nerves coming off her in waves. She was a little nervous and guarded. It was more pronounced when a black boy opened the compartment door. I felt her stiffen and she began studying the new comer.

I did too. He was a stranger. But he didn't smell like he had any malcontent. I saw him looking over my mistress and sizing her up. Everyone was sizing up everyone these days. I could feel it in the air. No one could trust anyone. I didn't trust anyone, except for my witch and her family. The air was always dark and rotten. It reeked of dark magic. It reeked of fear. But in this compartment, it reeked of mistrust. My witch didn't trust this boy. And this boy didn't trust my witch.

Well, he shouldn't. She hexes first and asks questions later.

After their abrupt conversation that ended with my witch being rude, I hopped onto her shoulder. She stroked my feathers to try and comfort herself. She was doubting her being here. Honestly, I didn't think she could handle it either. Henria's friends, Kadie and Mark, had been with her before I hatched. They had always been with her. During our training, they were on the sidelines, cheering and supporting her.

The door opened again and I smelt Minerva McGonagall before I saw her. She had a warm expression that smoothed the lines in her worried creased face. She was imposing with her rigid posture and her power came off her in waves. The two witches embraced and they started talking. I ignored their conversation and studied the over taxed woman. She was worried about this year. She could feel the skies clouding with the emminent danger. Her cat senses were feeling the shift in power.

They embraced again and she was gone. Henria sat down, her shoulders tense once again. I could feel that her vile drink had run its course and she was drained. I felt so bad for Henria, but I could nothing more than offer her the comfort of my feathers and the encouragement of my soft hoots. It was all she needed to get through the day and it helped. She pulled just enough from me to keep her head up and her senses alert. At night, she would recharge and we could do another day.

I felt her body relax into an easy slumber. I tried to stay awake as long as I could, but the soft rocking motion of the train soon lulled my eyes closed.

A sudden jerk had my talons seeking anchorage on my perch. I felt them dig into soft flesh and immediately regretted my action. Henria caught my body and as soon as I got my bearings, I flew down to the bench. I knew I had hurt my Henria. She would never blame me though. She knew I only did what was natural. But I could tell I had hurt her bad. I tore her soft tissue deeply. Her breathing was labored with the effort not to show the pain on her face. But it was in her brown eyes.

"Let's visit the hospital wing, eh?" her voice had me looking at her cautiously. She only patted the shoulder I had not mutilated and I made my new perch there.

The slow journey to the castle was uneventful. The Thestrals didn't like the work I did. They snorted at the smell of fresh blood and Henria just looked at them fondly. Her fascination with the darker things in life kills me on the inside a little. I've caught her reading up on dark magic before. I can stand the blood magic, that is acceptable because not all blood magic is bad. But I've looked in on some of the pages she has read and had to restrain myself from biting her face off. All those kinds of spells call for is trouble.

I could feel the weakness from blood loss enter her body. I started worry that I had just killed my witch. Her footsteps were sluggish and her breathing was even more labored. I felt my wings itch with the thought to fly ahead and pester whoever was in the hospital wing and get them to Henria post haste. But I knew that Henria would hex my tail feathers unless she were passed out. So, I waited to see how this would play out.

When she pushed the doors open for the hospital wing, she nearly fell over. If I could speak human, I would have started cursing her. But I am an owl; a familiar and all I got to do was watch her right her weakening body and call out for the mediwitch. A small, bossy woman came out looking suspicious. Not many students come in with owls perched on shoulders, I wager. But she took my presence with a grain of salt as she led my witch to a white bed. I hopped from Henria's shoulder onto the pillow and watched the two woman work.

My witch began to relax as a salve was worked into the gashes. I saw the torn red meat and guilt rushed through my blood. I had done that! I had hurt her! I was not supposed to hurt Henria; I am her guardian. I had shredded her flesh and she didn't even bat an eyelash at me in blame. But she should. She won't be able to do anything for many weeks with wounds that deep. I've broken my mistress!

Henria appeared in front of me in clean clothes. I jumped onto the extended hand and she placed me on her uninjured shoulder. I found I couldn't trust myself not to hurt her again and desperately wished she would order to the woods. I didn't want to be near her in fear I would incapacitate her permanently. But she wouldn't. Did I mention she was stubborn? Well, it takes a stubborn owl to know a stubborn witch. We made quite a pair.

The injured witch caught onto my sour mood and chanced a glance into my eyes.

"Quit your moping. I'll be fine." she murmured to try and comfort me, "Beside, you didn't hurt me that bad." I hooted softly in reponse and she ruffled my feathers. She has a good heart.

We paused as we came upon the double doors. A could hear faint chatter coming through the thick wood. My heart beat faster. I'm not ready for this. And I know that Henria isn't ready for this. But for the sake of my mistress, I will be there for her and I will help guide through this terrible journey.

And then I smelt it.

I smelt dark magic. I smelt sulfer and rotting flesh. It clouded my beak and I had to fight the urge to bristle my feathers and screech a warning. Minerva was on the otherside and if she were around, Henria would be safe. Finding the dark wizards amongst the children was Henria's job. That is what she was trained for. I was trained to keep a look out and have her back. That was my calling.

Henria proceeded to push open the doors and the hall went quiet. Kids began to stare. They stared at Henria. They stared at me. They alternated between staring at Henria and I. Henria didn't even bother to glance their way. Her target was Minerva. She needed to inform her what had happened. I was the one who analyzed the new place. Children in green robes had spots in their auras. I was not happy about that. One of the teachers had significant spots. His aura was very dark. Why the hell was this guy a teacher?

I heard whispering and then my witch tensed in frustration.

"He is not dangerous." her cross tone had me looking at the elderly witch. She was eyeing me suspiciously.

The hall erupted into loud whispers. Most of the children were looking in Henria's direction. I felt my gut turn uncomfortably. I hate when people stare at her. It makes me believe they will cause her harm. I don't prefer human blood on my talons. It's harder to wash out.

Henria's body was turning towards the hall and I quietly studied the faces of Henria's new peers. They didn't look much different from the ones back at home. Some looked at her curiously and others sneered in her direction. That is about the same reaction she gets from those in our town. A mixture of caution and curiousity. I should probably think about sharpening my talons tonight. Just to look more menacing.

"Although, while she has a free period, she will attend classes and be known as Miss Henria Sownbinder. She will be a peer amongst you as well."

The silence in the hall was thunder in my ears.


	2. Deathly Swoop

**Deathly Swoop**

I slept little that night. The eerie sounds of the castle kept me awake. I had a feeling that it wouldn't always be like that, but since I didn't feel as secure here, it worked to my advantage. I could watch my petite witch sleep and also familiarize myself with our room. Our little space was comfy. But it wasn't us. Henria liked bold color and a touch of a feminim hand. The earthy notes and subtle nuances would most certainly change when my witch wasn't so tired. I was even missing the lilac color of her bedroom in Sitka.

I waited until the sun had risen half way over the horizon. I knew that Henria preferred a gentle approach to waking up. I hooted softly until she started to stir from her slumber. When her soft fingers ruffled my feathers, I knew she was awake. I watched as she sat up and stretch, only to recoil as if she had been punched in the gut. A wave of guilt flowed over me as I realized she had agrivated the claw marks on her shoulder. When she peeled back the bandage, I felt like scratching my own eyes out. The wounds were so red against her skin.

I had to calm myself down before I did claw out my own eyes, so I stayed perched on her headboard as I watched her gather her wash tools and new bandages. Henria opened the door and I heard a surprised noise come from the room. There was an exhange of sharp words, one was my witch and the other a male. I felt my guilt get squashed out of my chest and was replaced with confusion. Why would my witch have a boy in her bathroom?

I watched from my perch as my mistress converse with this stranger. And then my curiosity reached its limit. They were still talking and she was growing more agitated. I pushed off the headboard and glided into the new room to land on a towel rack. My confusion must have been evident, because Henria was looking into my eyes. My black irises took in the pale, blonde boy. He was only clothed in a towel. I felt the confusion burn into anger. I don't share my witch with strangers. I hardly share her with her father and friends. Who the hell did this boy think he was.

After pointing to her shoulder, the boy grumbled and left the bathroom. I sat, guarding the bathroom from the intruder while she showered. When she assembled all her clothing from the bathroom and entered her room, I followed. Henria dressed quickly and without too much fussing. Her hair looked to be a mess, so she placed it in a high pony, her usual hair style for everyday living. After a quick check, I swooped for her shoulder and we left for breakfast.

I think my favorite part of the morning so far was having to pester Minerva for a note. Henria had noticed that her seat on the teacher dias was gone. With a quick look, I was soaring to the Heads table and I may have been a bit brutal. I am sure there are rules against pecking at teachers' plates of food, but I really wanted to motivate the Headmaster for an explaination. I snapped my beak around a short note and pushed off.

I think my least favorite part was landing on Henria's injured shoulder. I felt awful when she glared at me, pain lacing through the look. My best decision so far was changing my perch to her other shoulder. I relinquished my hold on the note and when Henria growled after reading the words, I knew that her morning wasn't going very well. I didn't quite understand what was happening when we started to make our way to the blonde boy's tables, but a smug sense of revenge was settling in my gut.

A tense conversation later, I realized that Henria was grasping at straws. She was unfamiliar with this young man and didn't know his name. I scanned the Great Hall for a familiar face. I locked my gaze on the black boy from the train. My witch's shoulders shifted as she started writing on the piece of parchment from Minerva. A quick look from her and I knew what to do. I always know what to do. It is like a sixth sense.

Don't ask me how it works. Don't question any other familiar how it works. We feel our witch or wizard's emotions and intentions. We are connected on a higher level than just a pet. Henria and I are special in the sense that we have trained together for battle. Her uncle and father were adamant that she learn how to command me and that I would serve Henria in any way that I could. I am most certainly not her servant. I have my own mind and I do everything my own way. But we move together and I always watch her back. And while I am watching her back, Henria looks out for my wellbeing.

With the other boy's answer safely clamped in my beak, I returned to Henria. Her smug smirk and cool demenor had me feeling better. But when Minerva showed up next to her, I felt all the tension return, tenfold. Her pulse started to race and I could hear her mind whirling. I hooted in confusion and was almost taken aback.

"Hush, Denali." she had responded, "Not now." I ruffled my feathers in frustration. I hate the word no.

A sigh emitted from her lips and I returned to people watching. I really detested sitting at the green tables. A lot of the children had dark spots in their auras. The stench was almost stifling. But, this is what Henria is here for. To keep a weathered eye on the children of Hogwarts. And I am here to keep a weathered eye on Henria. And I noticed something very off. The blonde boy had done something to her robes. I didn't like it.

I hooted to gather her attention. I could feel the anger course through my veins. Henria saw the fire burning in my onyx pools. Her quizzical stare had me hooting one more time and she turned to the pale boy. He told her to look down and she did. I didn't feel a change in her mood. This was not something that would bring her to her knees. No, my Henria was made of stronger stuff. But I wanted to rip that boy apart. How he was able to cast magic on her being without her knowledge baffled me. I cocked my wings, ready to take flight when given the signal. I was awarded for my preparedness with a nod.

A screech and a low swoop had the pale boy yelling. Henria knew I wouldn't hurt him. I knew I wouldn't hurt him, but he didn't know that. I made two more passes like that before my witch called for my return. We left the hall at a furious pace. Henria's mind was buzzing with thoughts. I knew she was distracted, but I honestly thought she saw the wall in her path. I had to take flight again to avoid collision. My hoot was sharp and angry and she knew that. I could see the tears brim her eyes as I realized she knocked her injury. But to keep her pride, she didn't cry. I had a feeling that the laughter that reached our ears still took it all away.

Their exchange was once again tense. This time it was angry though. The blonde boy called my witch, 'American' like it were an insult. Henria ignored his poor attempt at verbal attack and shot him a scathing return. She delivered her remark and turned on her heel. I decided to fly close behind her because she was distracted again. I could feel her temper coming off in waves. And when she entered the classroom, she angrily snapped her fingers. I watched from a distance as she sat down heavily in her chair and I perched on a window sill, still not trusting her to be calm. And when she noticed my apprehension, she forced herself to calm down.

"Quit being a dork and come over here." she ordered me. My senses told me she was calm and collected. So, I floated my way on over to her.

The class was very boring! I hate that she has to teach. I have to listen to her go on and on about this and that. Honestly! I can only listen to talking for so long before I have to surrender to taking a nap. Which was nice. I was able to finally relax. But when I was finished with my nap, I wanted Henria to ruffle my feathers or kiss my head. But no! She was busy with the brats who interrupted her. No time for one's familiar now? I felt my agitation grow at being ignored. Then the bell sounded.

I fixed my unhappy gaze on her face as she wished the little snots a good day and finally turned her attention to me. When her hazel irises rested on mine, I looked away from her. I heard her giggle before she blew on my feathers. I hooted my frustration at her so she would get that I was angry with her. I hate being ignored.

"Quit being a brat." the gall! I am the brat? I was so offended, I fly ontop the nearest bookshelf and perched there. I completely missed that blonde boy appearing at the doorway, "Fine. Be that way, jerk."

"And I haven't even said anything." the drawl that has been following Henria all morning reached my ears. I glanced at him and analyzed his form as the two conversed, which didn't please me in the slightest.

He was slender and had defined muscles. While his aura was dirty, he had a powerful field of magic around him. It was nothing compared to Henria, but it was decent. Correction; his field has nothing on the late Albus'. I would avoid him unless we were training because the magic was so strong with him. But this boy was strong. He was very practiced. Even in the Dark Arts. I detested the way he smelt and I was getting angry at Henria for letting him be in her presence. He was not someone she should ever trust.

I tore my gaze from the boy and looked at Henria. She was pleading with me to come down. I puffed my chest and descended. And while I felt bad about landing on the bad shoulder, I didn't move. First she ignored me and then she is letting the vile boy stay in the classroom while she taught? I don't think so. I will stay on her injured shoulder because it put me right between my witch with that boy. I was going to make my claim that she was mine and mine alone. I don't share.

This class was just as boring as the first one! And there were whiners in this one. I hate whiners. Their tone grates on my brain and I pain likes to shoot to my eyes. I was glad when she gathered her belongings and started for the dormitories. What I wasn't happy about was the boy following us. It was like he was a predator and my Henria was his prey. Well, I guess I will have to let him know that she isn't anyone's prey. I pushed off from her shoulder and rested my body on the back of the couch. Henria let a hand trail over my feathers and I hooted my pleasure from the touch.

I watched as the boy finally made a noise and Henria immediately began to reach for her wand. She shifted around and came face to face with her intruder. I watched the scene calmly and almost felt bad for not letting her know about the young man. I did recieve a glare for the deception, but she tends to glare at everyone. I thought that the nosy boy would leave her alone after she dismissed him, but when he closed the door to her room after her, I did panic. I don't know when my plans turned south, but they did. They were not to be in the same room together without my presence!

I waited and waited. My heart was racing in fear. I felt my blood thrumming through my veins in nerves. They were taking too long. Then I heard a crash as something hit the floor of her room. Muffled voices sounded angry. I hate when she gets angry. Because then my job gets ten times harder. I also love when she gets angry. Her eyes flash and she gets creative with her wand work. I heard footfalls get closer to the door and I got ready to swoop in and save the day.

The boy was the one who opened the door. I pushed off as hard as I could to get as much speed as I could. I will defend my witch at any cost. That cost was scaring the blonde one with my devil-may-care attitude. I perched myself back on the headboard as the stupid boy cursed at me. Like I haven't heard my witch say those kinds of things around me before. I've heard her invent new curses on the spot. She is very creative.

I shot her a worried look when she didn't laugh at my usual antics. She just turned to me and smiled shakily.

"'Tis okay, Denali." she whispered.

I followed her as she fell into the bed and rolled over to fall asleep. She needed a nap and I would watch over her. She knew that. I observed her body relax as she dove under the warm waters of sleep. I relaxed and peered around the room. I noticed that she had changed clothing. I am not used to seeing her in a skirt. Trousers are her preferred article of clothing for her legs. She hates skirts. I've heard her tell Kadie that she feels like all the boys are looking up it. She is only half right. All the boys are trying to look up it, but I have a very influential and deadly swoop that scares that idea out of anyone.

I peered out her window and caught sight of Dee, Kadie's chickadee. I grew excited. I loved spending time with Dee! She understands most of my thought process. Because she feels the same way I feel about Henria, with Kadie. She is a small bird, but she will peck your eyes out and then chip away a hole in your throat at the pulsing vein. So, when she began tapping the window, I waited patiently for Henria to wake up and open the pane.

Dee flew to my witch and cuddled up to her. Henria extracted the tiny scroll tied to her leg and Dee flittered over to my perch to share. We immediately began chatting. Dee asked how the trip was and if we had made any new friends. If I could laugh, I would have. Henria and I don't make new friends. But I appeased Dee's curiosity until Henria was gathering her belongings. I looked at her expectantly as I landed on her shoulder. She just looked at me sadly. Damn.

"Not this time, love." she said, "This isn't my class. I can't bring you. I'm sure that Dee would love your company. She did have a long flight." I hooted softly with understanding. I returned to my perch and started talking with Dee again.

After we exchanged our stories, I noticed that the small chickadee was tired. I told her to nap and I would watch out for enemies. And that is what we did. I may have lied, but I was tired also. It was tough work to keep up with my witch! And boring too. I really hate that she has to teach classes.


End file.
